


That Damn Mirror

by anarchist



Category: DMMd, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Make Up, fight, shower scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6164100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchist/pseuds/anarchist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a struggle sharing a single bathroom when you're both getting ready in the morning, as Noiz and Aoba learn the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Damn Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by an anon on Tumblr. Hope you like it!

His reflection was pasty, marred by a few splotches of acne and the shining metal of several piercings. One of these piercings was giving him pause - the bridge of his nose, swollen and tender around the bar shoved just beneath the skin. He worked at it with a cotton swab, dabbed in saltwater, digging crusty bits from around the metal, squinting at himself and angling his head for a better view.

Aoba appeared over his shoulder, pausing for a yawn as he held a towel tight around his waist, before groaning, “God, you spend so much time looking in that mirror. I have class. Do you mind?”

Without breaking his attention from the mirror, he waved Aoba off. “You can shower, I don’t care. I just need to clean up my face a bit.” Aoba looked down at the powder on the counter. For someone so counterculture, so ‘I don’t care what anyone thinks’, Noiz put quite the effort into maintaining a ‘natural’ pale glow. Aoba shifted from foot to foot, staring Noiz down through the mirror. “Oh, come on, Aobs,” Noiz grunted, “It’s not like I haven’t seen a dick before. Or your dick before.”

Aoba shook his head, hair long and tangled and wild from a poor sleep the night before. The bags under his eyes would have alerted Noiz to the fact that this was not the right morning to be arguing with his boyfriend, had he only turned around to take a look at his face. “Are you serious? I can’t have a little privacy in this house?” he snapped, tightening his grip on the towel at his waist. “Precious Noiz gets to spend hours shaping his non-existent frickin’ eyebrows and cleaning his piercings and popping his zits and applying foundation and I’m not even allowed to get into the bathroom for a few minutes to get ready for class? I have an hour, Noiz, come on. I’ll only be like five minutes in here, you know that.”

Noiz’s hands dropped to the sides of the sink and he finally swung his head back to look at the other. “Five minutes? Are you delirious? Do you know how long you take in the shower? It’s your damn hair, it takes you what, like half an hour to wash that shit? Chop it off, problem solved; you won’t need to take as long cleaning it, and I won’t have to spend time pulling clumps of blue hair out of the damn drain.”

Aoba visibly cringed, reaching one hand up to feel his hair. It was long. It was hell to care for. But this was him. It was a part of him. And Noiz knew that. So Aoba jabbed back in the only way he knew how, snarling, “Yeah, well you could get rid of those fucking nasty piercings.”

And with that, he dropped his towel, jumped into the shower, and a blast of boiling water hit him head on. He held in a yelp of pain as he readjusted the temperature to something more bearable - but still hot enough to steam up the mirror - and proceeded to take his time just standing there, letting the water stream down his body and wash away the sweat accumulated from his morning walk. 

He wanted nothing more than peace at that moment, to clear his mind with the warmth of the water, but as he looked up into the spray and closed his eyes, a voice darted across the curtain separating him from the outside, and the voice was very, very unhappy.

“Are you serious, Aoba?” Noiz shouted. The curtain flew open and water sprayed out onto the floor, onto the walls, onto Noiz, himself. “You come in here insulting me and I fight back and you fucking insult me some more? Is that fucking necessary?”

Aoba tried to keep his eyes closed, focusing on the jetstream coming down on him until it suddenly got burning hot again and he couldn’t hold in the pained yelp as he stepped away from the stream. He looked out of the shower, at the perpetrator who had just flushed the toilet. Noiz’s mouth was curled into an angry smirk. “We have to talk about this, Asshole.”

“I’d rather not,” Aoba growled back, forcefully swinging the shower curtain shut. The metal hoops screeched against the bar and then Noiz’s hand appeared, forcing the curtain the other way, and this added pressure was too much.

The bar crashed to the ground, curtain and all, and water sprayed everywhere again. Aoba looked at Noiz. Noiz looked at Aoba. “You!” they both snarled.

Aoba reached to grab the bar and secure it between the walls again - this wasn’t the first time the trashy dollar store shower pole had fallen, and wouldn’t be the last, he was sure - but as he lifted it something happened.

His foot slipped. 

He slid down the bathtub, both feet now loose beneath him, swinging the shower pole out wildly as he fell to the tub, smacking his head on the wall on the way down with a solid thud. The pole crashed outside of the tub. Water still sprayed from the showerhead. And Aoba half-sat, half-laid in the tub, one arm hanging out of the tub, holding the pole, other hand pressed against the wall in a failed attempt at maintaining stability during the fall.

“Holy shit,” Noiz was at his side in a second, reaching into the tub to help Aoba up, but Aoba shook his head. 

“Just turn the damn water off,” he spluttered, covering his face with his hands and wiping the water out of his eyes. Noiz obeyed, though the damage had been done. Both were soaked. Aoba was naked and bruised - both his ego and his ass. Noiz’s careful covering of his pimples was now running down his face. His clothes - expertly chosen to convey a ‘techno-punk’ vibe - needed a good drying. 

Aoba looked at this man leaning over him, kneeling at the side of the tub with both arms extended towards him, wet and uncomfortable and concerned, and his injured ego took a second hit. He was still mad. But he was naked here, he was in a completely submissive position, and Noiz would probably start laughing any second and comparing him to a drowned rat or some other equally unappealing creature.

But Noiz, who really did feel like rubbing this accident in Aoba’s face, took a minute to breathe before saying anything. And the words he chose to say were: “Aoba, are you okay?”

Aoba pushed him away and righted himself, standing up slowly. He carefully - carefully - realigned the curtain bar with the wall and twisted it so that it would stay. And with that, he cut Noiz out of this little blunder and turned the water back on, this time wasting no time to squeeze shampoo into his hand and start massaging it into his scalp, wincing as he hit the area that had just had an impromptu meeting with the wall. He reached behind him, suds running down his back, and pressed on the tender area around his tailbone that he was sure would be bruised soon, if not already. 

And then he looked down, and he saw it. The hair. Tons of it. Long and blue, a clump of it moving towards the drain. He growled to himself and helped it along its path, moving the faucet to aim the stream just behind it. “Fuck you,” he mumbled, “and your massive fucking ego, always looking in the fucking mirror, you started all this and you call me the asshole?”

“What was that?” 

Aoba turned around. How hadn’t he noticed the other person enter the shower? Now nude and staring him down like this was his territory, Noiz stood at the far end, arms crossed. 

“I was just saying fuck you,” Aoba said, shrugging. His space was invaded. Politeness was unnecessary at this point. “Could you hand me the conditioner?”

Noiz grabbed the bottle and squirted a handful into his palm. “This enough for you, Princess?” When Aoba glared and made a reach for the bottle himself, Noiz tossed it out of the shower. “Turn around.”

They stared at each other, working through their feelings without words. Aoba’s eyes squinted with exhaustion and pain and irritation; Noiz’s were wide and hurt and perhaps a little shine of empathy - or was it simply playfulness? - was present. 

He reached forward, taking the ends of Aoba’s hair in his hands and working the conditioner through it. Aoba turned around, giving him access to the rest of his scalp. He expected Noiz to hit that painful spot with force - quiet retribution - but Noiz was gentle and careful and he inspected Aoba’s back and said, “You’ve got a bruise.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a moment as Aoba rinsed his hair, and Noiz exited the shower, returning with a two clean towels for Aoba and one draped around his own loins. Aoba accepted the towels without a word, wrapping one around his hair and drying with the other.

“Listen, Aoba,” Noiz said. They were still in the bathroom; Noiz’s face was no longer a mess - he must have rinsed it in the sink before stepping into the shower - but it was a little red, as though he was embarrassed, which was unnatural for the casual kid. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Aoba grunted and pushed Noiz aside, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hallway to the bedroom. He glanced at the clock and resolved himself to skipping class for the day. His ass hurt. And his feelings were hurt. And he just wanted to cry, because it had been such a pointless argument, such a stupid argument, one that could have so easily been avoided, but he was tired and he’d been up all night writing a stupid paper and he wasn’t happy with the results and he just wanted sleep and he just wanted to say sorry and he just wanted Noiz to know all of that without actually having to say anything.

He rolled onto the bed, onto his side facing the wall, still wrapped in the towels, and he closed his eyes. Just for a minute.

Sometimes, a minute lasts just seconds and sometimes it lasts hours. This minute was somewhere in between - maybe twenty rounds of the second hand, ticking away - and when he woke up and rolled over, Noiz was there, also towel-wrapped but fresh and clean and smiling. Smiling.

Aoba’s lips parted and he leaned into Noiz, giving him a kiss on the cheek. The towel around his hair unravelled and his pillow was soaked through. He was chilled. So he curled closer to Noiz, tucking his head under his chin, and spoke. “I had a shitty night, Noiz. I was up all night.”

“I know. You didn’t come to bed until like… four.”

“Oh. I’m sorry I woke you.”

They were quiet for a moment. Then, Noiz: “Nah, it’s okay. It just doesn’t feel right being in bed without you, so I notice when you aren’t there. Or when you are there.”

His breaths were coming easier now. He could feel the anger had dissipated. Sometimes, a nap is all you need. A nap and a cuddle. He curled closer to Noiz, breathing in his scent and his warmth and comfort.

“Whoa, Aobs, you’re going to push me right off the bed.”

They shifted closer to the wall, together, one unit, arms intertwined and legs crossed over each other. 

“Aoba, have I ever told you that I love your hair?”

“I believe you told me I should cut it, actually,” Aoba jeered. He immediately cursed himself, adding, “But I’ll clean out the drain later today, sorry.”

The rebound of Noiz’s chest as he let out a snort of laughter calmed Aoba’s nerves again. “That would be nice.” Noiz’s fingers found Aoba’s damp hair, twirling it into loops and tugging through it gently. “I’m sorry for not paying enough attention to notice that you were upset this morning.”  
Aoba couldn’t help it. He wrapped his arms around Noiz and raised his head and placed his lips on Noiz’s and held him there in a deep kiss, a uniting kiss, a forgiving kiss and an apologizing kiss. When he broke off, he ruffled Noiz’s hair with one hand and looked into those playful, yet permanently angry eyes with the pale arched eyebrows. “I’m sorry for starting the fight. What you choose to pierce is up to you. And how much time you spend in the mirror… yeah, that’s up to you, too. Though you have to know, I think you’re attractive from the moment you wake up, before a mirror is even involved at all,” Aoba let out a giggle. This was his Noiz. This pretty boy with the piercings was his. 

“Thanks.” Noiz leaned in and kissed Aoba’s forehead, his temples, his cheeks and his chin, and finally met his lips. “Now, you missed your first class, but do you want to try to make it to your other ones?”

Aoba hesitated. It was a Tuesday. School was important. He had two more classes. His paper was due in a prof’s office by five, sharp. 

But he was cuddling with his best friend, his boyfriend, his roommate, and they were nearly nude, and they were clean, and they’d just fought and forgiven… this was shaping up to be the best day of the week, so why ruin it by going to school?

“So you going to school, Aoba? I’ll get out of here if you want.”

He planted another kiss on Noiz’s open mouth, a resounding “no”.


End file.
